Cherry Amour
by The Moonlight's Marionette
Summary: Third in the Death By Chocolate trilogy The art of seduction This man has it mastered Ukitake/Toshiro


**A/N : BOOM. I'm back *dances* not really. I just really needed to finish stuff so I started with this. I had the first part to this written for years but just couldn't make anything from it. I redid this completely. It's a bit short for the last part but I don't think it needs to be longer. I felt a bit… weird about writing lemon for this, I feel like I'll hear a knock on my door and open it to men with handcuffs. So I did not. Its fluff so if you came expecting the smex go away. I'm not emotionally ready for shota con of this level but if my mind muses me a scene that's not too o_O I'll write it down. I'm coming out of a severe writer's block so please enjoy and comment :D love yall**

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Spring has long since gone, taking with it the intoxicating aroma of cherry blossoms and the abundant jewel colored flowers.

He has withstood the sticky heat of summer, and cool indifference of autumn.

It is the time of year he likes best. A bit dreary, some would say, but he loves it.

He loves everything about it.

The crisp morning air invigorates him.

The cold nights ignite his blood.

The permanently grey skies relax his mind.

Everything stands out a bit more against a background of pure white.

It's the most beautiful time of year if you ask him, and it's nothing short of a miracle that he's made it to see the snow this year.

He surely thought spring would be the death of him.

He thinks of the period of time in which he nearly went mad. But he puts that from his mind for now.

He was sick at the time.

Given the worst first dose of cruel reality one could've been given.

But you can bet your bottom dollar that he's since been cured.

He still doesn't understand what he had been thinking, if he was thinking at all, what he was expecting… But he knows better now.

He's learnt.

He's had a brush with a crushing disease, and knows how to better protect himself now that he's rid of it.

There will not be a second time.

Taking a sip of the steaming tea set before him, he looks unto the back garden.

The pond is a frozen sheet of ice.

The shrubs are like small snow capped mountains.

The stone walking path is almost obscured with a dusting of powdered sugar.

The comparison makes him smile wryly.

He's been eating way more sweet things than should be allowed for consumption.

Trying to recreate a sensation in his mouth, a fire in his belly, a kiss only committed to memory.

His host who has just returned from fetching a snack, places a plate in front of Toshiro, and sits quietly on the other side of the small table.

His hair is tied at the base of his neck with a red ribbon, but a few strands that have escaped frame his face, falling almost artfully into his eyes. He brushes them away with a gentle motion of his fingers and smiles.

Toshiro swallows.

He is cured, but a sight like this could surely cause a remission.

Taking his leave is a good idea.

He's sure he employed all conceivable methods of avoidance after the incident.

He'd taken a three week leave without further explanation other than that he dearly needed it.

He'd hid himself from the world while he'd held the pieces of his heart in his hands.

That feeling was foreign to him.

Even with life threatening wounds, he could carry on in battle, ignore the pain and fight on, but this pain was not to be ignored or assuaged by mere distance from the other party.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Toshiro asks politely with no hint of emotion. He's proud.

He uses the question to look his host full in the face.

He looks healthy, no longer pallid. His cheeks are flushed, rosy from the cold; they match his lips which are slightly parted.

Toshiro looks away.

"I thought it would be a nice way for us to spend some time together-"

"I have work to do," he cuts him off sharply.

Ukitake looks at him sadly and this would have ruffled his feathers when he was weaker, but he is strong now he keeps reminding himself.

He has no sympathy for the devil.

He has not forgotten his torment.

The man doesn't reply.

Idly Toshiro looks down at his dessert that has steam still languidly rising from it.

"Its cherry cobbler, try some it's really good."

"No, thank you." Politeness be damned.

"Please?" He implores earnestly.

Toshiro stands abruptly. "If that's all you wanted I'd like to get back to my division." He bows his head, "thank you for the tea."

Ukitake makes a stunted movement, as if he was trying to stand quickly but decided otherwise. His hands grip the edges of the table, alarm clear in his eyes.

"Have I-"

The action makes Toshiro stop because he hopes the man does not want him to go.

It makes his heart jump for a fraction of a second.

His eyes are on the snow, falling slowly outside, adding to the thick layer already on the ground. His grey world, moving slowly with it, the moment lasting forever.

He knows instantly.

He didn't want to come.

He would have gladly sold his left arm not to, but now that he is here, he most certainly does not want to leave.

"Have I done something to you? I've noticed that you- you seem to have changed towards me."

The younger boy cant help but to smile bitterly at the uncertainty in his voice.

How foolish of him. To think that the person he'd spent so much time trying to forget and block out is oblivious. How ironic.

With an audible sigh, he sits back down, his arms folded, and sips his tea, more for a way to stretch the time than actually wanting tea.

Ukitake has his elbows resting, leaning forward towards him with a curiously sad look on his face, his brows scrunched in anticipation, his eyes wide.

The look suits him.

"I saw you with Kyoraku- taicho." It is all he says on a defeated exhale of breath, but he enjoys how recognition twists the man's features to utter shock.

He doesn't need to say anything more. They both know without saying.

The air is heavy.

He's being silly.

He's acting like a man calling a lover out on an infidelity.

Ukitake taicho is a grown man. He certainly has a right to do what he wants, see who he wants.

Of course. They weren't in anything.

What would they even be classified as?

How could he have been so utterly infantile?

His hands ball into fists.

Maybe he is simply a tool to relieve the boredom of a sickly captain.

A way to fill in the hours between when he and Kyoraku meet?

A way to pass the long hours of monotony.

Toshiro feels a burning in his chest, and behind his eyes.

"Was I wrong?" he asks softly. "Was it foolish of me to think… Why? Why did you do this to me?"

His hand clenches the teacup hard, the words spilling from him.

"Why did you lead me on when you already had someone? To make a fool out of me?! To expose me for the child I am? To laugh at me…"

It is only now when a sob is caught in his throat he's fully aware that he's crying.

The tears are forming warm trails down his face, his lips are trembling.

He thought he was cured.

He's been holding it all in, and this is it breaking free.

His heart doesn't feel any lighter though, his head no clearer, his pain no less…but the words are out.

"No, no, no.." Ukitake is behind him without him noticing and warmth is pressing against him. The older captain is sitting behind him, his legs are at either side of Toshiro's body, and he can feel the man guiding his body back to meet his.

A hand covers his eyes and leans his head back to rest on the man's shoulder.

The tears will not stop. The sobs he's trying to retrain shakes his chest.

"To hurt me?"

He's crushed into an embrace. Ukitake is so very warm, making him acutely aware of just how cold he had been.

Comforting.

Possessive.

Loving.

Ukitake takes his smaller trembling hand into his and kisses his small fingers.

He presses Toshiro's lifeless palm against his cheek.

Warm breath ghosts across his earlobe. "No, I would never hurt you deliberately," he whispers sincerely.

Or does Toshiro merely long for it to be sincere. For it to be anything else would be crushing.

"Unintentionally."

"I would never…"

Their cheeks are touching; Ukitake's face is right by his, his hand around his chest.

He is complete.

He feels his hand being guided.

His fingers touch something that is hot and cold at the same time.

It was the cherry cobbler.

Slowly his hand is lifted to the man's awaiting mouth.

A shiver raked though his body and he gasps, when he realizes the man is sucking each one on his fingers clean, bit by bit, his tongue swirling around them like an erotically evil serpent.

The art of seduction is mastered by this man.

He wonders idly if he's the only one that's granted this pleasure. He wonders when the two captains first reciprocated their feelings, was it mutual?

Do they love each other?

His thoughts are scattered, when gentle fingers turn his head and tilt his chin ever so slightly, and the warms lips brush his.

Heart hammering away on the verge of exploding, he concedes defeat. He's wanted this for longer than he could say.

His mouth is hot and sweet, his tongue so sensual. It is not something that could be recreated.

The real thing is incomparable.

Ukitake tenderly strokes the soft hair of his temple, deepening the kiss until Toshiro is moaning in delight.

Toshiro is sick and maybe Ukitake is sick. There is no cure for him. For them.

He is so sick that he chooses to ignore the fact that Ukitake neither confirmed nor denied his accusation, so sick that he could allow himself to believe that this man is only his. 

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***phew*done. TBC?**


End file.
